"I felt that [Mallarmé's poems] must have been endlessly reconsidered in a mental enclosure from which nothing was permitted to emerge until it had lived for a long time in a world of presentiments, harmonic arrangements, perfect forms, and their correspondences; an initiatory world where everything met and collided and where chance itself was forced to linger and find a direction, until it finally crystallized in a chosen pattern." --Valéry
grow away from my words
treetrunk chainlink-trammelled
waxing trespass
yellow & white yesterdays
rumble over trestles
can't ride that yearning
stolid in the witness stand
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